Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sweden and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Busters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Josef K,
the Normal,
Das Ding,
The Sound,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bizarre Inc.,
Girls At Our Best!,
Magma,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Black Dice,
Minnie Riperton,
Hot Snakes,
Eric Copeland,
Joe Finger,
Matthew Halsall,
Skriet,
Mars,
Derrick Morgan,
Scratch Acid,
A Certain Ratio,
UT,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott Heron,
T. Rex,
Joyce Sims,
X-Ray Spex,
Tubeway Army,
The Smiths,
The Cramps,
Brick,
Oneida,
ABBA,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aaron Thompson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
Y Pants,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Move,
Gang Green,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nick Fraelich,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bill Wells,
Erasure,
Roger Hodgson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
L. Decosne,
Alton Ellis,
Eli Mardock,
The Grass Roots,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Sonics,
The Fall,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moody Blues,
Jeff Lynne,
Visage,
kango's stein massive,
The Cure,
Pere Ubu,
Lebanon Hanover,
China Crisis,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.